Figured You Out
by Classic Rock Fan
Summary: Based on Nickelback's Song: Figured You Out. 'I like the way you still say please, while you're looking up at me. You're my favorite damn disease.' Summary is in the A/N in chapter 1! No FLAMES! NOT WINCEST! Sammy ends up with a chick in the end! !


_**And now I know who you are, it wasn't that hard**_

_**Just to figure you out! -Nickelback**_

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**_**A/N: A sudden inspiration hit me! ^^That's from Nickelback's song 'Figured You Out' and it inspired this story! Just so you know, this is _NOT _Wincest! **

**Summary: After Sam's had enough of a sexually and physically abusive relationship with his boyfriend, he calls Dean. Dean comes to his rescue and begins to fight for his brother's safety. But, will the nightmares, and the waking up screaming end after Sam receives justice? Well, just ask his- **covers mouth** I can't tell you anymore.. Continue reading to find out!**

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_**Sam's POV**_

As I laid in bed, the bruises on my cheeks and my black eyes filling my body with mind-numbing pain. Meanwhile, he slept beside me, the snoring softly, my blood probably on his knuckles. I just couldn't get myself out of there fast enough. I had to get out. Had to escape. My pants and shirt were strewn through the room, if he had figured out that I was gone, I was a dead man. I got up quietly and pulled my pants on, wincing softly as they rubbed against the skin that was bruised.

Where was my cell phone? I was going to need it to call my brother Dean. Dean was my older brother, and I hadn't talked to him ever since I left for Stanford. I pulled on my shirt, stopping ever so often, hearing him roll over and then I'd go back to dressing. I was going to escape tonight. And he wasn't going to be able to find me. I tiptoed out of the house with my bag around my shoulders and closed the door behind me. I felt around for my phone, frantically.

I had to call him. Had to get him to pick me up or I was dead. I took out my cell and called him, hoping he would pick up before the bastard woke up. I sat on the step, waiting for him to pick up. Finally, I heard the familiar classic rock of AC/DC's TNT playing. Leave it to Dean to make my heart jump for joy. "Hey Dean. I was wondering how far you were from Palo Alto." I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

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_**Dean's POV**_

I wasn't expecting to hear Sammy calling me. So, I knew that this was important. I turned down the radio and smiled. "Sammy, I'm in Los Angeles right now. Why? Everything alright at home?" I asked, concern leaking through my voice. I could tell something was definitely up with Sam. I heard him take a deep breath, and then what he said, hit me like a knife in the chest.

"The bastard did it again." he had said.

My eyes grew wide. Sammy had a boyfriend, I knew that. But, what I didn't know was that he was abusive. I gripped my steering wheel. "I'm coming to get you Sammy. Just stay where you are, and get out of the house."

"I am. I'm sitting out in the front yard." he said.

I sighed with relief. That was good. Then I wouldn't have to worry about kicking my little brother's abuser's ass. "Good. Just stay there! Okay?" I asked. I hung up and drove as fast as I could. I wasn't going to let my brother go through that. Go through the pain. I couldn't help but, want to protect him. That's how it was when we were younger. I couldn't let him live there any longer.

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_**Sam's POV**_

I sat there, looking for the familiar Chevy Impala, nursing my wounds. And it's a lot easier to nurse it when you've been in the hunting field. I watched as cars rode by, watching, waiting. I kept an eye on the house, making sure no lights came on in the second story bedroom window, which would indicate that _he _was up. Suddenly, I heard the booming of heavy rock music playing in the distance. Then I remembered it as 'She Talks To Angels' by the Black Crowes. And I saw the door open and he began walking toward me, then ran to me, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. "Sammy. God, what'd he do to you?" he asked, looking at my face and running his hand along the bruises and cuts.

"You don't wanna know. Can you just get me outta here?" I asked.

He nodded and picked up my bags, as I headed toward the car, looking back up at the second story window. The window that held our bedroom. The window that held so many memories. Dean closed the trunk and walked over to the driver's seat. "Hey, you comin' Sammy?" he asked, breaking me out of the staring contest that I was having with the house.

I snapped out of it, and looked at him. "Yeah. I'm coming." I said, getting into the passenger seat. I closed the door behind me, and leaned my head back on the seat. Dean drove away from the curb and kept his eyes off of me, I'm guessing to keep his anger from rising. From wanting to kill the bastard that did this. I sighed and suddenly felt groggy. "I'm going to sleep. Okay?" I asked.

He nodded, and I soon closed my eyes slowly and drifted off into a deep peaceful sleep.

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_**Dean's POV**_

I had to admit, seeing my brother in the front seat caused me to feel a little bit sorry for the kid. I didn't know what he went through, but, he was still my little brother. And I would do anything to protect him. Like when we were kids, protecting him from bullies, and sticking up for him. Now I realized how much I had missed him. It's been two years since he's called me.

He was asleep now, and I was careful not to wake him, after all he looked like he didn't have much sleep to begin with and he was looking a little bit older than he really was. I gritted my teeth, stopping myself from driving back there to beat the hell out of the bastard that did this to my brother. Caused him harm. And I was about to too, until I thought about how that would effect Sammy.

"Sammy, I'm so sorry." I whispered softly, gulping down the lump in my throat.

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**A/N: Sorry if it's so short! Anyway, doesn't this just pull at your heartstrings like a banjo? Plotbunny says: Read, Review, and Give me some ideas for Chapter 2! Also, I'm really happy with this story. You've got to listen to the song in order to fully understand the story.  
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